A scream in the Warp
by Bakuriel
Summary: A rogue Psyker tries his best to handle the machinations of the Chaos God Tzeentch. Original character, Warhammer 40k.


The teleporter gave off a discouraging zap noise, right as a power armoured fist came crashing towards Alveus' stomach. A wrenching, twisting feeling filled his stomach as what should have crushed into him passed through as the protesting device complied and sent him off towards the beacon he had set aside in case he needed to escape.

There wasn't much help for it, really. He had, rather unwillingly, awakened and become an unsanctioned Psyker, and he had known one day or another they'd either come to recruit him, or eliminate him. He had expected the latter, but he hadn't expected them to send in Space Marines.

Not just any Space Marines either. The Grey Knights had arrived personally to see to his end. That was terrible news indeed.

He looked around to get his bearings. The beacon was supposed to be near the Gothic style circus that kept up residence near his home town, but the damn unreliable piece of technology had once more sent him very far away from his intended target. A hot burst accompanied by a deafening pop indicated the final moments of the device, and part of Alveus' clothing went with it.

Alveus ran. He ran as hard as he could, past the darkened field he'd landed in towards the sparse forest ahead, recognizing where he was finally and knowing the way he had to go. There wasn't much time. If the Grey Knights didn't find what they wanted, it was likely they'd just bombard the planet until it was clear there was no trace of heresy left. If they found what they wanted, they'd probably start the bombardment sooner.

As he ran, a burning feeling began to build up in Alveus' chest and throat. It wasn't exhaustion. He'd run this distance before with no trouble. This...this feeling wasn't as uncomfortable, almost a small caress from somewhere beyond physical reach. Again, Alveus became vaguely aware of an odd warping effect as his breath flew from his lungs. At first he had thought he was delusional, but it had happened so often since that he couldn't be sure anymore.

He darted past trees and rocks, the edge of the forest visible, and the first of the many tents came into view. There were fewer of them, and they appeared to be packing up, everyone bustling about in a flash to escape some unseen aggressor.

_Well_, Alveus thought, _Leave it to the Alpha Legion to get word out that quick. Less work for me, though_.

Quickly, he closed the distance towards the main tent, ever aware of the growing sense of dread that came with the proximity of the Knights, their blessed armor like an itch across the inside of his skin. Sure enough, everyone was packing up and trying desperately to get away as quickly as possible. Captain Jeremiah was issuing commands to the frantic cultists when a scout came in.

"They're here!!" He shouted. "Captain, it's the Grey..."

A bolter round flew into the back of the man's skull, finishing his statement on a grim note and sending the already panicking cultists into a greater frenzy. Jeremiah looked around with a scowl.

"HALT THIS PATHETIC DISPLAY AND GET YOUR SORRY ASSES ON THE TRANSPORTS THIS INSTANT!!" He bellowed. "Take only the information we need and get going!! Brothers, to battle!! Wedge in front of those dogs of the False Emperor and halt their advance!!"

The Captain let out something of a cross between a laugh and a growl as his commands were obeyed, then turned to Alveus, who nodded and ran towards the nearest transport vehicle. Jeremiah was the commander of this particular outfit, but Alveus acted as something of a Librarian, and so contained all the knowledge they'd acquired.

The front of the tent burst open as the Grey Knights pushed onwards, and yet more cultists scrambled to intercept them. The Captain drew his pistol and sword and charged in, taking command and slowing the advance further.

As Alveus ran, the distance to the awaiting Rhino seemed to grow, and time began to slow down. The burning feeling in his chest had spread, and it was beginning to constrict his lungs. By the time he finally reached the vehicle, a stray shot from a stormbolter found it's way into his side, ripping through too quickly to detonate, but dropping Alveus to his knees.

Red filtered into his vision. The burning feeling turned into a maelstrom of flame, and he was at the center, marching back towards the lines of Grey Knights steadily advancing towards him. He was vaguely aware of Jeremiah's protests, but his throat was dry, his jaw locked shut, and his body out of his control. A Knight in Terminator armor smashed it's way through some cultists and stood towering over him. Alveus could feel the marine grinning through the helmet.

"Your heresy dies here, fool!" His voice was like thunder, but Alveus just stared him down.

Without a word, Alveus took in a deep breath, and screamed as loud and hard as he could. But no sound came out. In fact, almost all the sound around him seemed absorbed into the air, the silence becoming deafening. Then it came. A terrifying, wrenching noise like steel grating on steel. Then others joined it. A chorus of voices cried out in triumph, as the chords of Tzeentch mixed into the sound. An angry cry of battle, of war and honor waged endlessly followed, the Voice of Khorne. Then the wail of the sick, the dying, the dead, the Voice of Nurgle twisted it's way into the mix. And finally, barely a whisper, the silvery tones of Slaanesh joined in. Several of the cultists were on their knees, crying at the beauty of the noise, while several of the Knights were stunned momentarily, trying to rend the sound out of their ears with their fists.

The Terminator stood unmoving for a moment. Then, slowly, blood began to leak from the joints of his armor, and a terrible creaking sound began. Moments later, the armor ripped open, and a terrifying creature burst forth, charging the remaining Knights and barreling several into the ground. More came, from both the cultists and the Knights, horrors of twisted flesh and bone, rending through the blessed armor with blind fury.

Amidst all of this, Alveus was vaguely aware of being carried, the shrieks of the horrifying creatures dying away as metal closed in behind him. He looked up, seeing Jeremiah for only a moment before darkness claimed him.

In the last precious moment of consciousness, in the darkness before the deeper darkness, Alveus thought he saw the visage of Tzeentch, terrifying and beautiful, laughing in it's chorus of voices, a wicked smile on it's face.


End file.
